Amjad, 33, was born and raised in Gaza City, amid the ever-present spectacle of conflict.
New Delhi:
For Amjad Shabat and his family, survival was the focus, and home was only an afterthought. An apartment next to hers has a sign reading “Bombed”. A frantic search to grab anything vital and a barefoot dash across the street followed by the sound of Israeli drones and jets overhead signaled impending doom. On that day, three days after the Oct. 7 attacks by Hamas terrorists on Israeli soil that killed more than 1,000 people, Amjad’s family clock was reset.
Amjad, 33, was born and raised in Gaza City, amid the ever-present spectacle of conflict. Once an English teacher, dreaming of a better future, his life is marred by the violence that has plagued the region for generations.
“I was an English teacher,” she told NDTV. “A year before the war, I bought my dream home with my husband, a small flat on the coast with a view of the Mediterranean.” For, the modest comforts of home provided relief from the harsh realities of life in Gaza, where basic necessities such as electricity and clean water were often lacking.
“Life was difficult there,” he continued, his words echoing the sentiments of countless Palestinians who have long endured the hardships of living under occupation. “All services were lacking. We had electricity for seven hours a day and fresh water was scarce. The tap water was salty and polluted. There were very few opportunities for people of my generation, especially in the field of work. No Park, ### from the cinema, not the theater, that I am one of the few people of my generation who refuse to leave Gaza and instead give my 3-year-old daughter the hope of a future free Palestine and Decided to raise dreams in the city.
The daily struggles of life in Gaza were compounded by a pervasive sense of isolation and hopelessness that pervaded every aspect of Palestinian life. “Young Palestinians living in Gaza are denied the opportunity to travel abroad,” Amjad explained, his voice heavy with resignation. “To travel, we needed to get a lot of permissions from the Israeli or Egyptian authorities, it’s a very difficult process.”
on the run
Amjad’s husband, Fadi Alshafi, is a journalist at a local news website. When Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu vowed to reduce Hamas positions in Gaza to “rubble,” Fadi, Amjad and their daughter Gadi were already worried about their future.
“I remember three days after the October 7 attacks, on an apartment next to our flat, there was a sign saying ‘bombed’. It said to evacuate immediately. However, we were confused because we There was no official communication to leave,” Amjad said.
“We looked out of our window to see a scene of chaos: people were screaming and running in one direction. Out of panic, I held my daughter close, while my husband grabbed our passports and essentials. Collected the documents. Barefoot, we ran away from our house, with my husband being the only one who remembers wearing shoes,” she added. “Fortunately, my mother’s residence was located at the end of our street. We stayed there for three days on October 13, a Friday, when the Israelis issued a call to evacuate residents of northern Gaza, urging them to move south. sheltered for days.”
The 13th-century Al-Basha Palace in Gaza City, where French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte once camped.
The sustained Israeli airstrikes represent the most intense aerial bombardment of Gaza in recent years, in response to Hamas’ deadliest attack on Israel in decades. Months of bombardment of the besieged Palestinian territory has destroyed ancient buildings and monuments, including the 13th-century al-Basha Palace in Gaza City, where French emperor Napoleon Bonaparte once camped.
“We went south,” Amjad explained. “Then our house was destroyed in an airstrike sometime on October 17th. I think we didn’t see it. We were sent photos by some friends who went back to check their houses. My mother’s house too. has been destroyed.”
An explosion every 20 seconds
Forced to wander from one temporary shelter to another, Amjad and his family find themselves living in a tent in Al Mawasi, a coastal town ravaged by war and deprivation. They had first arrived in Rafah to stay at Fadi’s father’s house, but had to leave due to overcrowding. About 1.5 million of Gaza’s 2.4 million residents are believed to have taken refuge in the city.
They eventually ended up in the town of Khan Younis at Fadi’s uncle’s place but had to evacuate again after Israeli tanks rolled into the town.
“The situation (in Al Mawasi) was catastrophic,” Amjad recalled. “We shared a bathroom with 40 other people. I remember waking up very early to clean the bathroom so that my daughter could use it half an hour later. I was afraid of her catching any disease. Especially Considered how diseases are spreading. Camp.”
Photo credit: One of the camps where Amjad spent time.
“At night we could hear the sounds of bombings and airstrikes. It didn’t stop for a moment. At one point my husband calculated that there was an explosion every 20 seconds,” she added.
“And of course, bathing was another challenge. My turn came every 10-12 days. There was no cooking gas to heat the water. It was very cold in winter. We had to collect whatever we could. .Finding the fire and heating the water, mainly finding paper, was another task.
For Gazans living in refugee camps, he said, it is more likely to be killed by an Israeli airstrike than to catch a disease.
“One day in the camp, two people were killed by stray bullets. Of course, the bombardment did not stop and we could not move. My husband was very close to being killed one day when he went out to fetch water and crossed a road. “There were Israeli tanks at the far end and they were shooting at people, he ran away leaving all the bottles, buckets.”
“Another day, there was intense firing around our camp. We had to lie on the ground to avoid the bullets,” he added.
A way out
For weeks, the family trudged through Gaza’s brutal landscape, battling the constant threat of violence and despair. As thousands die each week, the family, short of money, desperately tries to get out of Gaza to give their daughter a better future.
A glimmer of opportunity emerged. Months ago, Amjad applied for a scholarship to the University of Texas for a Masters in Middle Eastern Studies. An email about its outcome sat unread in his inbox.
“I remember receiving the scholarship letter in November, a month after the war started,” Amjad recalled. “At the time, I lived in Khan Yunis. We didn’t have good internet, but I somehow managed to get a connection.”
A boy stands next to the rubble in front of a heavily damaged building on the eastern side of the Magazi camp for Palestinian refugees in the central Gaza Strip on April 15, 2024.
In a race against time, they reach out to contacts overseas, seeking immediate assistance to escape the horrors unfolding around them. “We saw it as a hope, like a light at the end of a very dark tunnel,” they reflected. “We thought this was our life now – displaced and living in tents and refugee camps. Our daughter would be raised to fight diseases or worse, we could all be killed in Israeli airstrikes.”
Amjad’s acceptance letter meant the family had provisions for them to apply to be on a priority student list – their ticket out of Gaza via the Rafah border, the only border crossing into Gaza not controlled by the Israeli government. So he applied for an American visa through his embassy in Cairo.
“We Palestinians have lost track of time. On October 7th our clocks were reset. After four months of trying and finding ways and means to get out of Gaza our name appeared on the student list. We found it by chance. Found out because there was no internet,” Amjad explained.
Escape
It was the first day of Ramadan. Despite the difficulties, loss and uncertain future, Amjad and her husband decide to celebrate the first day with family. With bombs on the roads, cars out of fuel and public transport shut down, they used donkey carts, or horses, to reach Fadi’s father’s house in Rafah.
“The next morning my husband got some internet connection and we found out that our names were on the student list and we were to cross the Rafah border that same day. It was 11am and the border closes at 3pm, so we Ran,” Amjad recalled.
With only hours to spare before the border was closed, they embarked on their journey to freedom. “We took nothing, not even clothes. We didn’t even have time to say goodbye to our family and friends,” he said.
Displaced Palestinians line up to fill their containers with water in Rafah, southern Gaza Strip, on April 19, 2024.
Photo credit: AFP
She said, “After reaching the crossing we realized that my name and my husband were on the list but our daughter’s name was not. She had no documents. We lost all her certificates during the bombings. Our Only had our passports,” he said. .
“Bringing a child to the border and saying without any proof that it is your child will create difficulties for you,” he lamented. “I cried and begged the border officials that she was really my daughter.”
In a stroke of luck, they managed to retrieve their family records, providing enough evidence to confirm their relationship.
And just like that, Amjad and his family left their relatives, their friends and Gaza, where they were born and lived their entire lives.
Life and future predictions in Cairo
Life in Cairo offered a semblance of stability amidst the turmoil. “We are seeking psychological help to settle down better,” revealed Amjad, admitting to the long-term trauma of avoiding death.
“What will happen to the town where I grew up, lived my whole life, the dream house we bought?” He thought. “Gaza will take generations to rebuild, and I’m not sure if we’re going back again.”
Amjad hopes to move to the US by September to begin his course at the University of Texas. To make ends meet, she teaches social studies online to children who have moved from Gaza to Egypt.
Amjad’s journey, in his own words, though deeply personal also resonates with the wider narrative of Palestinian displacement. “The Israelis occupied the land in 1948 when the first Nakba occurred and 800,000 Palestinians were uprooted from their historic villages. My husband and I are third generation descendants of refugees. So I’m not sure We will never go back. This sense of security in your homeland is gone forever.”
“In order to maintain peace in the region, Israel must be held accountable for what it has done to the Palestinians,” he insisted.
Israel has threatened a possible attack on Rafah for the past two months as part of its campaign to eliminate Hamas. The G7 of advanced economies on Friday opposed a large-scale military intervention in Rafah, fearing dire consequences for civilians.
